A Knight Of Honour Part 16

'Do you say that you have never lain with a man?'

'I swear it. On my honour.'

'A wh.o.r.e's honour. We shall soon see the truth of this!'

Elona gave a squeal of fright as he grabbed hold of her wrist and began to drag her towards the bed, throwing heron to it as he glared down at her. He was angry but the evidence of his desire, his need, was there for her to witness.

'Take me if you will, my lord. I am yours. I want to be yours-but take me in love, for I love you.'

'I'll have no more of your lies.'

Stefan was there beside her on the bed, reaching for her. He ripped away her gown, staring greedily at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, before his mouth covered the nipples, sucking at them and nibbling with his teeth. He was not hurting her, but his actions were rough and demanding instead of the tenderness of which she had dreamed.

'Love me,' she begged. 'Do not despise me, my lord. I have paid for my mistake.'

'You are mine to do with as I will,' he muttered and ripped her gown further to reveal the flatness of her belly and the dark curls cl.u.s.tered about her mound of Venus. 'Wh.o.r.es deserve no better.'

'I beg you...' she whispered. 'Do not take me in anger...'

Stefan's only answer was a groan and she realised that her behaviour earlier, when she had deliberately tried to arouse him, had worked too well and he was beyond the point of no return. He was angry, but he wanted her, wanted her so desperately that he could not stop himself if he'd tried-and in truth she wanted him, even if his loving was merely l.u.s.t.

His body was covering hers, his hand parting her thighs, his fingers seeking out the moist centre of her womanhood, and as he touched her she cried out, for the pleasure outweighed the pain. He thought her wanton, a wh.o.r.e, but he still wanted her, he still desired her-and she wanted him. She wanted to feel him inside her, filling her. She wanted to belong to him even if it was only this once. If he afterwards rejected her, she would at least have had this of him.

'Love me, Stefan,' she whispered as he thrust himself deep into her. Her body stiffened as she felt the tearing pain of his entry, and she cried out, but then she pressed herself closer to him. The pain was nothing compared to the easing of such want inside her. She was his whether he denied it or not, and at last he would know that she had not given herself to another man. 'I love only you, always you,' she murmured, her back arching to meet his thrusting as he reached a climax swiftly, spilling his seed inside her. 'I have never loved any man but you.

Stefan lay with his head pressed against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. For a moment he lay still, then he rolled away from her and lay on his back staring up at the ceiling.

'You were a virgin,' he said. 'There was no man before me.'

'No...' She lay with her eyes closed, feeling the sting of his anger now that his l.u.s.t was done, the tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks. She had hoped that he would love her, but it was clear that, even now her innocence was proven, he did not love her. A stab of pain went through her. Even though she had shown her love for him, he still did not honour her. She had loved him for so long now, but he had not wanted to marry her and he would never forgive her for forcing the marriage upon him. Suddenly, a great wave of shame washed over her. She was nothing to him and yet still she loved him, would always love him. But no, she must find the strength to send him from her, for she would not be used in this way by a man who did not truly love her. 'Leave me. I beg you. leave me.'

'Elona...'

Suddenly. from nowhere, anger surged up in her. She had done everything she could to please him, even playing the harlot to arouse him, and it was not enough. Shame and anger made her reckless. So be it! Let it be over. She would not beg for his love.

'Leave me,' she said again, her throat caught with tears. 'I would he alone. There is nothing between us and can never be. When I am rested, I shall leave this place and you will be rid of me.'

'No!' Stefan's cry was like that of a wounded beast. 'You shamed me before my father, you lied to force me to wed you-and you will honour those vows, Elona. Be warned, for I shall never let you go.'

'Even if I hate you for what you have done?' She stared up at him as he walked over to the tub and bent to pull on his clothes. What was she saying? All she desired was to be allowed to stay here, but she could not stay if he despised her. 'You cannot keep me here against my will. I shall return to France-'

'You are my wife and you will do as I bid you,' Stefan said.

'Try to leave and I shall fetch you back-and then I shall teach you obedience.'

Elona watched as he strode from the room. What was she to do now? She had believed that she would win him in the end, but now she saw that it was useless.

Her pride would not allow her to stay here to be used as his wh.o.r.e. She had longed for his love, but it was useless when he did not care for her. She should leave his house and go back to her father's manor in France-and she would just as soon as she had the opportunity!

Chapter Ten.

It did not take Elona long to realise that an attempt to leave without her husband's permission would be useless. He could order her women not to obey her, prevent her from taking her possessions, and even imprison her if he chose. A sleepless night was enough to show her that she was powerless, at her husband's mercy.

Besides, how could she demand that Melise accompany her all the way back to France? It had taken many long weeks for the old woman to make the journey here and the return might kill her. For Melise's sake, she must stay for the time being. Perhaps in time Stefan might relent and let her go.

Bethany had told her that Stefan had gone hunting when she brought food to break her fast the next morning.

'Our stores of fresh meat are low, for we had sent much of what we had to the village,' the woman told her and looked at her mistress oddly as she added, 'They say that Sir Stefan was not in the best of moods this morning. He yelled at one of the servants and was brusque with Piers.'

Elona did not choose to enlighten her. The bloodstains on her linen must have told their own story, but she would not satisfy Bethany's curiosity.

'We have much to do,' she said. 'We have neglected our tasks here the past few days and must begin to prepare for winter. The apples, pears and what plums are left should be sorted; those good enough for preserving need to be peeled and cooked with spices and then sweetened with honey before they are stored in stone jars. Mary and Roberta will do what is necessary. You must make a start on turning out the linen chests, if you please.'

Having sent her women about their various tasks. Elona went in search of Father Fernando. She had neglected her lessons and was determined to begin again.

'I am glad that you have spared time for your studies, my lady,' the priest said, his chins wobbling as he nodded his head vigorously in a smile of welcome. 'My lord gave me the books you have chosen to use, and I think they will give you pleasure.'

When had Stefan given him the books? It must have been after he left her chamber the previous evening! He was clearly determined that she should stay here and for the moment it seemed that she had no choice but to obey him.

Yet she was not to be ill used. There would be no repeat of what had happened the previous night! Elona made her silent vow as she began her lessons; she was determined that she would force her husband to respect her somehow. He had believed her a wh.o.r.e and a liar, but he could no longer think it. She had given him the proof of her innocence the previous night.

Her mood was sombre when they began to read, but the stories of King Arthur and his knights were so enthralling that Elona ended the morning feeling very much happier than when she had begun it. For more than two hours she had been carried away by the tales of chivalry and love and it had restored her spirit.

After taking a little cold meat, bread and ale at midday, she and Julia began the task of mending some of the household linen. Most of it was in sore need of attention, and she made a note to ask Piers if they could not renew much of it. It was when she had put aside her work for the day and begun to think of changing her gown for the evening that Mary came to her.

Elona saw at once that she was deeply troubled and asked her what had happened to cause her such distress.

'I have been told that I am to marry Ulrich the carpenter and leave you, my lady.'

'Who told you that?' Elona was surprised and angry. 'I gave no such order, nor have I been informed of this.'

'It was Master Piers. He said that the order came from Sir Stefan. Ulrich's wife was killed and there is no other woman in the village to take her place.'

'And since you are a widow it seemed convenient, I suppose. Well, it does not suit me. I need you here.' Elona's eyes narrowed as she fought her rising temper. 'You do not wish to marry him?'

'No, my lady. I would rather stay here with you. I have no wish to marry again ever.'

'Then you shall not.'

Elona's temper had begun to boil as she set out in search of her husband. How could he give such an order without first consulting her wishes? Oh, he should discover that he could not treat her so scurvily! She had been too eager to please, but after his behaviour the previous night things were changed. She had been afraid that he would send her away, and had felt guilty because of her lies, but now he should learn that she would stay here only on her own terms.

Stefan saw Elona walking towards him as he stood in conversation with his steward. Something about the way she held herself warned him that she was angry-nay, furious! She had not been as angry as this since the day he had told her that she would have to do better if she wished to trick him. Immediately, he dismissed Piers. If she were about to demand her freedom, he would have privacy.

'My lord,' Elona began with a flash of fire from her lovely eyes, 'I pray you will give me a few moments of your time.'

How beautiful she looked! Stefan saw that the proud, haughty beauty he had first encountered in France had returned. She was no longer weighed down by guilt or remorse and he was glad of it. There was no shame in that lovely face, and why should there be? If anyone had cause to be ashamed, it was he for the way he had treated her the previous night.

'How may I serve you, Elona?'

'I have been told that Mary the Wise is to be given to Ulrich the carpenter in marriage and I forbid it. She is my serving woman and I do not give my permission for this marriage.'

'Do you not?' Stefan was so surprised at the reason for her anger that he was lost for an answer. Was such a trivial thing enough to cause this rage in her? 'May I ask why? It seems sensible-since he is in need of a wife and she hath no husband.'

'She wishes to remain here as one of my women. She is far too useful to me and I refuse to allow her to leave.'

'And what does Mistress Mary say?' A little smile touched his mouth as he heard the ring of authority in her voice. It had been missing far too long and he had missed it sorely, had blamed himself for its loss.

'She does not wish to marry again.'

'Then that would seem to be an end to it.'

'You are saying that she will not be forced to accept him?' Elona was so taken aback that she stared foolishly. She had not expected him to give in so swiftly.

'It shall be as you wish. Ulrich may look for a wife in the next village.'

Elona watched him warily. He had given in too easily and, though she had gained her way, she was not placated. 'When will you allow me to return to my lands in France?'

Ah, now they were coming to what ailed her! 'I am afraid I cannot permit you to leave here, Elona. Baron Danewold has refused to surrender to the King. While he is at large, your safety can only be a.s.sured as long as you remain under my care.'

'I am safe enough. I am your wife and can be of no value to him.'

'He could not wed you while I live,' Stefan agreed, his tone calm and reasonable. 'But he has sworn revenge on us and would perhaps take delight in capturing or killing you. Since he is now outlawed, he can lose no more.'

'You could send an escort with me.'

'I fear I cannot spare the men.'

Elona looked at him suspiciously. She would swear that he was mocking her, amused by this little game. That glint in his eyes showed that he was enjoying himself.

'Do not imagine I shall allow what happened last night to happen again. I am not a wh.o.r.e and shall not be used so.'

The gleam of humour vanished. 'Indeed, you are not, Elona. You are my lady wife and shall be given all the respect due to you. It was my intention to beg your pardon for my behaviour last night. I have misjudged you, wronged you, and I am sorry if I hurt or distressed you. I shall strive to make amends as best I can.'

'You were a savage brute,' Elona said, temper flaring. 'You do not know how to treat a lady. I suppose you have been used to taking what you want from women, but you shall not find me so accommodating again.'

'Shall I not, Elona?' The corners of Stefan's mouth would not quite stay still. Why did he not quite believe her protests? 'Would you have me beg for my wife's favours?'

'Oh, do not be so foolish!' she snapped. 'I am angry with you. Do not come to me, for my door will be locked.'

'Do you imagine that would keep me out if I were determined to enter?'

'You are a brute. Learn the art of love and then I may welcome you to my chamber, sir!'

Elona turned on her heel and stalked off. Why had she said such a foolish thing? The last thing she wanted was for Stefan to come to her bed again-wasn't it?

Stefan smiled as he watched her walk away. He had taken himself off for a hard day's hunting to ease the tortured confusion of his mind. His shame at the way that he had behaved to Elona had overwhelmed him so completely that he had compounded his foolishness by leaving her without a word of contrition. It was little wonder she was angry.

Even had she been the wh.o.r.e he'd named her, she had deserved better than harsh words and a hasty tumble between the covers. But she was innocent. He had realised it too late, his need too urgent to pull back, and then he had been overcome by the enormity of what he had done. The vile names he'd called her, the harsh manner of his possession, the hurt he must have inflicted in his haste to bed her.

It was only to be expected that she would hate him. He could not blame her for wanting to leave him-but he could not lose her now! She was his, his wife, his love, and his reason for living. He could never let her go. Somehow he must win her trust and confidence, if not her love.

He had hardly slept, rousing his men early to the hunt, glad of the need to seek provisions to ease his restless mind. He had been so sure that he had killed Elona's love for him. Why should she care for a man who had treated her so ill? If she insisted on leaving, in the end he must let her go, and he would never force her to accept him in her bed though already his body burned for her.

He had returned to the house that afternoon determined to see her, to beg her forgiveness, but Piers had detained him, and Elona had come to him. Not to demand her freedom, though she had done so as an afterthought, but on behalf of a serving woman.

It was not the action of a woman who hated. Had she hated him, she would not have thought of approaching him on such a matter. She was angry, but anger cooled and then. . . was it possible that she would find it in her heart to forgive him?

He had no right to expect it, yet something in her manner had given him hope. She had accused him of being a savage brute, of needing to learn the arts of love. Well, perhaps one day she would allow him to show her that he was not quite the clumsy oaf she thought him.

A little smile touched his mouth. He had believed all chance of happiness lost, but now he thought that it might not be so-all he needed was to have patience.

Elona had dressed with care that evening. She wore the tunic and surcote she had first worn for the King's banquet, her hair bound in a smooth coronet on the top of her head with silver and pearl pins, a cap of silver wires holding the veil that fell down her back past her waist. Her undergown had a long train that dragged on the floor behind her almost like a serpent's tail, and she wore the chain Stefan had given her about her throat.

She looked proud and beautiful, a queen amongst women, that any man might be proud to call his wife. And she was his! Stefan thought, his eyes devouring her as she walked slowly towards him.

It was a week since his hunting trip and Elona's angry outburst. Since then she had maintained a cool dignity in her manner when speaking to him. Stefan in his turn had behaved with polite courtesy, giving little or no indication of his feelings towards her. He had neither insisted on his rights as a husband nor apologised further for his behaviour. Instead, he had tried to please her in small ways.

A travelling minstrel had been welcomed to their hall and Stefan had paid him well to stay and sing love songs for them. One night they danced and Stefan led the company with Elona, treating her as if she were made of some precious material that must not be damaged. His nearness had seemed to affect her during the dance, but afterwards when he smiled at her, the cool smile was back in place.

He had asked their neighbours to dine with them; a genial knight, his plump, pretty wife and two young daughters. Elona had seemed pleased with the company and the daughters had stayed two days at Sans...o...b.. before being escorted to their home. Arrangements had been made for them all to meet again soon for the winter fayre that would come to the villages.

'You look beautiful,' Stefan said, rising as she came to join him at the high table that night. 'I trust you are well, my lady?'

'Quite well, thank you.' Elona inclined her head. She had taken refuge in dignity, otherwise he found it all too easy to provoke her. 'My women have been mending your shirts, my lord. Indeed, they were in sore need of it. If you will send for the stuffs, we shall make you some new ones. You are in dire need of some refurbishment to your attire.'

'I am but a rough soldier,' Stefan replied, a twinkle in his eye. She had asked for any mending and he had given her a pile of his oldest shirts, some fit only for the rubbish, to keep her busy. 'You must order material for my shirts as you see fit, my lady.'

Elona sensed the mockery beneath his easy words and wondered if he had played a trick on her. 'Melise grows stronger every day,' she said softly enough so that only he could hear. 'I dare say she will be fit enough to travel soon.'

'Is she not happy with us? I thought that she had come to stay for the rest of her life.'

'You mock me, my lord!'

'Do I, Elona? Are you so very anxious to leave us? I had thought you found plenty to occupy you here?' If not, he must find her more mending!

'I dare say there is enough to keep me busy for a few weeks.'

'Oh, then the snows will be upon us and you would find it hard to travel. You should make up your mind to stay until the spring.'

'I shall leave before the snow comes!'